All Of This Past
by foggynite
Summary: PRNSAU. Sequel to Tilling My Own Grave. Vampirewarlock AU. The new rangers in town reveal themselves, and their grudge against Sensei. HunterCam, BlakeTori Chapter 4 added CONCLUSION.
1. Slipping further away

This one's from Hunter's POV, because I realized—There's only, like, two, maybe three episodes where Cam has a scene with Lothor, and that's a while to wait to meet the main bad guy and yeah, I'm not really following the episodes anyway, but. I just wanted to do Hunter. .  
  
Title: All Of This Past   
By foggynite   
Fandom: Power Rangers Ninja Storm Vampire AU  
Pairing: Cam/Hunter eventually, Blake/Tori   
Summary: The new ninjas in town reveal themselves, and also their grudge against Sensei Watanabe.

* * *

With a sigh, Hunter leaned back in his padded computer chair and propped his feet on the mahogany desk, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Papers were trapped under his boots, but he didn't care. He was tired of all this planning and scheming crap. He just wanted a good fight.  
  
Lothor insisted they study their opponents to learn their fighting styles and personal habits, but that wasn't Hunter's MO. He'd take an all out brawl over this covert bull any day. Their benefactor had even gone so far as to orchestrate disturbances to draw the rangers out so the two brothers could watch, and the senseless killing of vampires right in front of him didn't sit well with the elder Bradley. It just didn't seem right to sit back and wait for an opening at the dojo when they could see the rangers murdering people.  
  
Why couldn't he just challenge Watanabe? If the guy was as tough as the gossip on the streets made him out to be, then he wouldn't back down. Hunter hadn't believed that Watanabe was on "sabbatical" any more than the rest of the city, but it wasn't until Lothor had revealed the details of his last encounter with the ranger that things started to make sense.  
  
Hunter dropped his legs to the floor and stood, taking a moment to stretch the kinks out of his back. The heavy curtains were drawn tight, and the only light in the hotel suite was a dim yellow desk lamp. He clicked it off with a vicious twist. His vision was better in the dark anyway.  
  
Lothor had set them up at the downtown hotel. It was one of many that the half-witch half-vampire owned, so Hunter didn't feel too bad accepting the free accommodations. It was better than working as a mechanic for some human who had no idea what he was. Better than having to go out during the day, too.  
  
He was lucky to be lamia and not a made-vampire. The sun didn't burn him exactly. It was just there with this overwhelming presence he could feel sapping his strength. No matter how far into the shadows he went, it was still hanging over him.  
  
Like he could feel its position in the sky even with the curtains closed now, and he sighed again, walking over to the small kitchenette in the corner. The suite was set up as an apartment, a tiny one granted, but it suited their needs. He didn't plan for them to be in town long.  
  
Yanking open the fridge door, he surveyed the contents with a frown. Leftover pizza, some stale bagels, bottled water. Dark glass bottles of what looked like wine. He hesitated before picking one up.  
  
Blake would be pissed if he found out how much he'd been drinking, but Hunter had to keep his strength up if they were going to get through this in one piece. It was only cow's blood anyway. Lothor had a deal with a local butcher, so it was fresh, too.  
  
His parents had never let him even taste the stuff, let alone offered him an endless supply, and he could understand why. This was the first case Lothor had sent over since they arrived, and he'd already gone through three bottles, but the rush it gave... It was better than the pig's blood he'd gotten in the last city, and he was surprised at the difference. He'd barely touched the other bottles, but he was drinking these more than he was eating normal food.  
  
Which was part of the reason he hesitated. He set the bottle on the counter and stared at it, fists clenched. He could honestly admit to himself that the cravings disturbed him. Only made vampires needed blood to survive, but he couldn't access his lamia powers without it.  
  
Yet he had been raised to believe humans and vampires could co-exist, and that he didn't need his powers to reach his full potential. He didn't know if his birth mother had felt that way, but that was what the Bradleys believed and that was what they taught to their sons. They'd made sure they lived in a community that supported diversity and accepted the fact that a human ninja and a made-vampire were raising a warlock and a lamia. His parents were rangers, true, but they had had no quarrel with anyone, and their violent deaths had been reported with shock. It had only been three years since they were murdered, and the memories still gave Hunter nightmares.  
  
For all his training, he hadn't been able to save them. He'd been weak. Lothor understood that and had gotten him the blood despite the man's own reservations about it. Blake had freaked the first time he caught Hunter drinking it. Seeing his brother near tears had almost made him quit, but. Lothor was right; he couldn't protect Blake without it. It was something that Hunter needed to do.  
  
But how could he explain it all to Blake? His little brother hadn't been there. Hadn't had to watch. Cursed or not, the creep who killed their parents in cold-blood was in the city at that moment, and Hunter wanted to put a stop to the murders.  
  
He knew Blake wasn't as enthusiastic about Lothor's plan as he was, and even he had reservations about it, but wasn't it their duty? They were trained as rangers, too. They knew the code, and Watanabe had obviously violated it. The Council hadn't even sought to punish him for his transgressions, but Lothor was giving them this chance to make the world a little bit safer for their people.  
  
Hunter got a mug from the cupboard.  
  
And if he happened to pour a little bit more than usual, he justified it by telling himself he had to be especially alert, after the attack on Blake. If that fool Zurgane hadn't gotten all worked up, Hunter wouldn't have had to stay late at Lothor's office calming him down. He would have been there to watch his brother's back at the Bloody Mary. When he caught the scum that dared...  
  
The mug creaked warningly in his hand, and he forced himself to breath. He didn't bother heating it up, like some of Lothor's men did, and just chugged it as quickly as possible.  
  
The fact that it had all worked out in the end didn't comfort him. The ranger girl had saved his brother from the back alley, and Blake still couldn't remember how he got there, but he had gotten inside the back dojo wards. The wards on the front weren't as strong, as Hunter had discovered when he visited, but they were different than the ones around the control room. Getting in the back was something they'd been trying to figure out how to do for the past week, and Blake was reasonably sure he could open a rift in it, now that he'd felt how it was woven.  
  
So maybe they'd leave town sooner than Hunter had thought. After he taught who ever had attacked his brother a very permanent lesson. He hadn't wanted to enlist Cam's help, but after talking to Lothor and seeing that the man was happy the way things had turned out, he didn't really trust him to give the matter the proper priority. Besides, Hunter wasn't completely helpless. He didn't need Lothor to do everything for them.  
  
The question was, though, would Cam turn out to be as bigoted as his father? That moment of realization in the dojo office still made Hunter smile. That smell of fear. Cam was good, he'd give him that. If Hunter hadn't been what he was, he wouldn't have known the instructor was afraid.  
  
But keeping a fellow warlock from bleeding to death and helping his lamia brother find the perpetrator were two different things. Could be that he'd try to set Hunter up with the rogue rangers, or maybe try to finish Hunter off himself. The guy obviously had power and was trained to use it. It made Hunter wonder why he wasn't out in the field.  
  
Which was why he needed as much of an edge over the Watanabes as possible. He didn't like the thought of dealing with Cam if the man interfered with their plans, but he'd do it if he had to. Even if he did owe the guy for saving Blake's life. No one was going to stand in the way of his revenge. Hunter snorted. So what if the warlock was good-looking?  
  
The mug shattered in his hand, porcelain shards scattering over the linoleum. He watched the cuts in his skin seal closed. Running his tongue over his teeth, licking away the last traces of his meal, he could feel his elongated canines.  
  
No, he needed this power. He was going to set things right.  
  
The elevator chimed down the hallway, and he quickly stowed the bottle back in the fridge. Blake complained less when Hunter hid the evidence. Foot steps that sounded like water droplets echoed through the hall.  
  
Hunter had the mug remnants in the garbage and his face schooled into a more human appearance by the time the door rattled open. Laden with take-out bags from the Chinese restaurant a few blocks away, Blake grinned at him as he locked the deadbolt.  
  
"Hey, you wouldn't believe who I ran into on the way home," he said smugly.  
  
Hunter just arched an eyebrow. "Some girl?"  
  
"Tori. Her name is Tori," Blake frowned at him, but didn't look too upset as he put the bags on the counter. He was practically glowing while rooting through the cartons. The bite mark had faded to a light bruise with angry little scars that would fade given time.  
  
Worry spiked through Hunter, made him want to grab his brother and get the hell out of town before someone got hurt worse. "Bro, you _do_ remember that she's a murdering rogue agent for the bad guys, right?"  
  
Blake's excitement dimmed and Hunter kind of felt like an ass for being so harsh, but dammit. Someone had dumped his unconscious body in an alley.  
  
"Yeah, but. She just. She seems normal, y'know?" Blake said quietly, fiddling with the soy sauce packets. "I expected her to spout off lines about the evils of vampires and shifters and all that. But she doesn't. She's cool about that kind of stuff."  
  
Hunter ground his teeth. "Or, she could be lulling you into a false sense of security because her sensei—that guy who murdered our parents?—told her to."  
  
The parent card was low. Blake tensed, turning to actually look at him for the first time since coming home.  
  
"I know that, okay?" The younger Bradley said quietly. "But maybe she's just confused. Maybe this Watanabe guy's bewitched her. Or maybe his son did. Maybe she needs our help? What kind of rangers would we be if we ignored that?"  
  
Crossing his arms, Hunter glowered. "Or maybe you're just looking for someone to save, bro."  
  
"Bite me," Blake glared, grabbing a carton with angry movements.  
  
"No, someone already did that," he responded tightly. "Which is why you need to keep your head on business, not saving the enemy from herself."  
  
"Dude, she saved me, all right?" His brother dished out fried rice onto a plate, spilling some on the counter.  
  
"Yeah, after you passed out. And it's so convenient that she was there, don't you think?"  
  
"What are you implying?"  
  
"All I'm saying is that you don't remember anything before the dojo. Who knows what could have happened?"  
  
"Okay," Blake slammed the carton down. "That's overly paranoid, even for you. Why would she knock me out just to take me back to her lair, inside the wards?"  
  
"I don't know, and that's why we need to be careful." The smell of the sweet and sour chicken was making him ill. "Maybe they're setting up some sort of trap."  
  
Blake just stared at him for a long moment, eyes pained. Hunter met him head on, not backing down.  
  
"Bro," Blake finally said softly. "What's with you lately?"  
  
"What do you mean?" He tried to keep the defensiveness from his voice.  
  
"You're just—"Blake waved at him and the computer desk. "You're obsessed with all this, man. I mean, I realize the importance of what we're doing, okay? But you're acting weird, even for you."  
  
Before Hunter could respond, he continued. "You're scaring me, bro. Ever since Lothor showed up, you've been brooding more and more, and now you don't even have a job. What happened to all that talk of independence? You're throwing it all away for—"  
  
"For a chance to see some justice," Hunter interrupted. "And it's not like we can't walk out at any time. Why not take advantage if someone offers to bankroll us for a few months?"  
  
"Can we?" Blake asked, sounding tired. "Can we just walk out, Hunter?"  
  
"Of course." If they wanted to leave, no one was going to stop them. Hunter would see to it. "Do you want to walk out?"  
  
And again, it was low, but he needed Blake to actually understand what was going on. The flare of panic in his brother's eyes made his chest clench.  
  
"No." He whispered. "No, I'm with you all the way, bro."  
  
"Good."  
  
Blake swallowed tightly and returned to the cooling dinner. "Which do you want, General Tso's or sweet and sour?"  
  
Hunter shrugged. "I'm not hungry. Just take whatever you want and leave the rest in the fridge."  
  
He ignored the sharp look Blake directed at him and returned to the desk. They were going to be busy that night. 


	2. I can barely inhale

Crouched low on a warehouse roof, Hunter repressed the urge to sigh as Blake shifted restlessly behind him. Again. Slowly, he turned his head to glare. Blake narrowed his eyes at him in a frown.

Dinner, or rather Hunter's lack thereof, apparently had not been forgiven yet.

Lothor's men, overseen by Zurgane, were loading two unmarked trucks with crates from a warehouse. Lothor had assured them that he owned the warehouse and the goods, but Hunter was beginning to doubt if the gang below knew that. They had ripped the door from its hinges and fried the alarm system, which was going to be quite a hefty repair bill. The local police hadn't responded yet, but Lothor said that he informed the station that he would be testing the system earlier. All Hunter and Blake had to do was wait for the rogue rangers to arrive so they could finally fight them and incapacitate them.

"They're not going to show up," Blake finally murmured. "This whole thing isn't normal gang style. The rangers won't bother with it."

"They'll be here," Hunter muttered.

"What's in all those crates anyway?"

"Like I know."

Blake didn't respond to the sharp tone, so Hunter merely squared his jaw and settled back into his watchful pose. Before Blake could keep speculating, movement on the periphery of the warehouse lights caught their attention. The only thing visible of the ninja was the pale strip of skin exposed around his eyes in the mask, and Hunter wondered if Blake could even see that much. The person was crouched, but obviously tall.

Dustin, then. Which meant Tori was probably coming in from the– Yup. There she was on the other side of the warehouse, at the corner. If they were following their previous tactics, then Shane would make a showy entrance from above...

Blake surreptitiously tapped his arm, indicating Shane's dark form crawling across the low hanging roof of the loading bay. Hunter signed back that they should wait longer before going down.

The rogue rangers sprang into action once Shane was in place, moving in tandem to intercept Lothor's men. The gang members scattered, some running for the front of the trucks, others engaging the rangers in combat. Zurgane charged Shane, but the ranger flipped him into a stack of crates. The other shapeshifters were tag-teaming Tori and Dustin, but their untrained butts were getting thrashed. When it was obvious that the rangers might actually have the advantage, Hunter gave Blake the signal to move out.

A thrill ran across his skin, blood magic and ranger powers mixing in his veins. Black lightning crackled through his usual crimson streaks as he teleported, vision filled with blinding light and thunder echoing in his chest. He reappeared in a crouch on the tarmac of the loading dock. Blake was a shower of navy blue sparks beside him as he stood up.

His brother let loose a burst of dark blue energy, knocking the closest ranger off his feet. Hunter came forward in a defensive stance to cover him as Blake began the spell again. They held their ground as the remainders of the shifter gang jumped on the trucks and pulled away.

While the rogue rangers gathered around their rising comrade, Hunter crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. The expression was lost on their similarly hooded opponents, but the attitude was enough of a challenge.

"Who the hell are you?" Shane demanded, standing protectively in front of Dustin and Tori.

Using the charm he had prepared to mask their voices, Blake growled, "We're the ones that are going to make you pay, rangers."

"Pay for what?" Dustin asked, bewildered. "Dudes, we weren't the ones stealing this stuff. That was tall, dark, and furry over there."

Hunter rolled his eyes. "No, but you are the ones who have been going around murdering people."

"What?" Tori sounded shocked.

"We're rangers, just like you," Shane ground out, visibly trying to stay calm. "This is our city. We keep the peace here. If you think we're not doing our jobs, take it up with the Council. Right now, we need to go after those slavers, so get out of our way."

Refusing to be sidetracked, Hunter stepped in front of Shane when it looked like the other ranger was going for the unconscious Zurgane. Shane automatically lashed out at the move, going on the defensive when Hunter pressed his attack.

"You're rangers, but not like us," the elder Bradley snarled as he twisted Shane's arm into a lock. "We honor our ranger oath."

"Man, enough of this." Shane swung his elbow up, clipping Hunter under the jaw. Hunter rolled with the hit, changing his grip on Shane's arm so he could flip the other man. Shane kicked free and they faced off, exchanging a series of furious punches.

Hunter could feel the rage building inside him, dark and bloody. His blows became less focused, more savage. The discipline of his training was slowly receding, but he couldn't bring himself to care as long as Shane was staggering under his attack. The ranger's left side was weakened and he kept shifting to protect his ribs, so Hunter pressed his advantage. Finally, one of his strikes broke through Shane's block, connecting solidly with his chest to send him flying into a row of boxes. The crack of bones under Hunter's fist made him smile and under his cowl, he bared his fangs in a growl.

Before he could follow through and drag Shane from the pile of boxes, Blake stepped in front of him. The younger ninja gave the signal for the two brothers to depart, but Hunter started in Shane's direction again. Blake grabbed his arm before he could continue, and Hunter turned on him with a snarl.

"They're down," Blake said simply and gave the captive arm a tug.

Distracted, Hunter looked for the other two rangers, who were getting determinedly to their feet. The plan had just been to test their strength, wear them out if possible, and see for themselves if the rangers had any tactical weaknesses.

Relenting, Hunter gave a sharp wave of his hand and Blake released him. Standing back, the blonde looked over at Tori and Dustin, who were glaring defiantly and still ready to fight.

"This isn't over yet," Hunter said ominously and teleported before they could respond.

If there was more black around him than crimson, he didn't see the point in mentioning it.

They re-appeared in the common area of the suite, in front of the sofa. Yanking his hood off, Hunter strode over to the window and glared out at the darkened city. His reflection was a sharp contrast of shadows and pale skin. He didn't know what to think at the moment, with adrenaline and something else making his heart beat fast. He glanced at the image of his brother.

Blake stood in the middle of the room quietly, slowly removing his hood as well. His jaw was squared and he was keeping perfectly still. Hunter waited.

"I thought we were just supposed to toy with them," Blake finally said, tone carefully measured.

Returning his gaze to the starless night, Hunter didn't respond.

"We had a plan," Blake bit out angrily, voice rising. "We agreed on it. We were just going to see how they fought for ourselves. We weren't going to try to kill them!"

He could feel Blake's hurt, and his worry and his fear. And instead of being concerned that his little brother was upset, Hunter felt oddly empty. Like, intellectually, he knew he should be more emotional over this, but he just... wasn't.

All he could feel was his heartbeat thudding in his head, like white noise in his ears. He could feel the blood in his veins at each dull thud, from the tingle in his fingers to the way his legs wanted to be moving. In motion. They had to keep going and see this thing through. Any way they had to.

"We're the good guys here, bro," Blake snapped as he threw his hood at the coffee table. It landed with a sharp slap of leather. "If they're really rogue, then we gather evidence and turn them into the Council for judgement. We neutralize the threat with the least amount of force necessary. We follow the laws, Hunter. The minute we stop doing that, we're no better than they are."

"Why do you care so much about them?" Hunter finally asked with a smirk. "Are you mad because you had to beat up your girlfriend? News flash, Blake– They're killers. Murderers. And the Council didn't stop them before now, so what good is gathering evidence they'll just ignore for a few more years? How many more orphans are we going to let these guys make?"

"This isn't like you, bro. It's like I don't even know you."

Glaring balefully, Blake turned on his heel and stormed into their bedroom, slamming the door. Hunter shrugged and loosened his tunic at the neck. His expression in the window was blank.

The shrill of his cell phone broke his gaze, and he retrieved the phone from his desk. Only two people had this number, and one of them was sulking. He flipped it open.

"What?"

"Now I see what your brother meant about socializing you, Mr. Bradley." The voice on the other end was jovial, inviting Hunter to join in on the joke. Too bad for him, Hunter wasn't one to play, especially not with a man who reminded him of Colonel Sanders.

"Your boys really tore up that warehouse," he said casually. "Then they got their asses handed to them."

"Ah, yes." There was a smile in Lothor's voice. "Zurgane just returned home. I'm afraid he was, ahem, unconscious for most of your no doubt witty repartee with Watanabe's goons, so he wasn't able to fill in the blanks for me." He turned more serious. "How did it go?"

"They're weaker than I expected." Hunter started idly looking through the papers strewn across his desk. "If I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, I'd say they were exhausted from the run around your boys have been giving them these past few weeks. Their training is marginal. They know what they're doing, I just don't think they have much experience. I'd almost say it was by luck that they've managed to keep defeating your men, but then, I've seen the way your people fight.

"We thrashed them pretty good tonight, though. I doubt they'll be patrolling much the next few days."

"Good, good. Hmm." He could almost picture Lothor stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Well, that is some good news. I don't suppose you boys would be willing to step our plans up a week, then? Since you apparently have them on the run."

Hunter studied the architectural drawings in front of him, tracing a finger over all of the points of basement access.

"We should give them a few days." He finally said. "Wait until they recover enough to get confident, then strike while they're out on patrol but still too weak to be much use."

"Excellent, my boy!" Lothor chuckled and Hunter held the phone away from his ear with a grimace. "I'll have Zurgane on the alert. You just give us a call–"

"No." Hunter's voice was harsh. Lothor broke off. "We do this on our own. He's ours. We'll deliver him to you, but your people don't interfere with us."

"Of course, of course. I have all my faith in you two. Your parents raised you right, as did Sensei Omino. You have my word that my men won't interfere."

The placating tones did little to appease Hunter, but he relaxed at promise. "Good."

Blake opened the bedroom door as Lothor continued speaking. He had a bottle of aspirin in one hand and a cold washcloth in the other.

"All I ask is that you let me know when you're going to make your move. That way we can be prepared on this end."

Watching his little brother ignore him and go to the fridge, Hunter nodded. "Fine. I'll give you a call."

"Good. I'll be waiting to hear from you."

Lothor disconnected as Hunter flipped his phone shut. He kept looking at Blake, who poured himself a glass of orange juice and knocked it back with a couple of pills. The younger Bradley had his denim jacket on.

"Going somewhere?"

"Out."

Hunter gripped his phone tighter. "Care to be more specific?"

"I'm just going cruising," Blake snapped, refusing to meet his eyes. "That's all."

Taking a calming breath, Hunter suddenly felt exhausted. It wasn't worth arguing about anymore.

"All right. Just be careful."

Blake glanced up at him, noting the change in moods. At his brother's confusion, Hunter quirked a rueful half-smile.

"You're kind of irreplaceable, bro. So stay out of trouble."

It was a tentative olive branch, and he felt a little better when Blake smiled back, albeit more subdued than normal. Gathering his keys, Blake paused at the door.

"I will. Why don't you get some sleep; you look like crap." With a snicker, Blake hurried out the door.

"At least it's a new look for me! Unlike some people!" Hunter called after him.

Laughter was his answer, and he listened until Blake entered the elevator at the end of the hall. Sighing, he let the smile slip from his face and gently returned his cell phone to the charger on the desk. Yet another thing Lothor had gotten for them.

He debated going over their strategy again, but planning really wasn't his thing and his head was pounding with a killer migraine. He walked indecisively into the kitchen, eyeing the fridge. He could have another mug and stay up through the day, or he could have an aspirin and maybe get some sleep. The two of them had been training hard lately, and the excitement of the night was catching up with him, but his sleep had been uneasy since they moved to the new city. Like there was something waiting for him. He just didn't know what.

Opening the fridge, he frowned as his hand hovered over the unlabelled glass bottle. After a moment, he slumped against the fridge door and grabbed a bottle of water instead.

* * *

Blake didn't get home until after dawn. 

Hunter had managed to drift off, but the slide of the suite's lock made him bolt upright in bed. He was still groggy, though. Unreasonably so, in his opinion. Laying back down, he listened to Blake putter around in the living room, then the bathroom. He didn't feel like talking this early, so he feigned sleep when Blake came into the bedroom and crawled into the other double bed.

Going through his nightly ritual of laying on his back, then his side, then his stomach, Blake slowly drifted off. Hunter waited until his brother's breathing evened out in sleep before he kicked back his covers and quietly went out to his desk.

Sitting quietly in the computer chair, he stared at the pages in front of him until they swam together. He didn't like this feeling churning in his gut. Always, he knew who he was and what he was doing, but now. Now, when he should be the most sure of what he needed to do, he was beginning to doubt it all. Something just wasn't right.

_It's like I don't even know you._

Was he changing? Last night seemed fuzzy now. Everything felt blurry and muddled.

Maybe his little brother was right. Maybe Hunter was losing his direction. Rangers were supposed to be impartial representatives of justice, maintaining the peace between hunter and human, and ensuring that the edicts of the Council were observed by the members of their world. Preserving the sanctity of life for all beings was their primary goal.

But now...

People were dying. Pure and simple. Several members of the ranger community had been assassinated over the past three years, the Bradleys one of the first teams targeted, and then, less than a year ago, Sensei Omino had also disappeared. He wasn't dead. The Council's oracle was able to tell them that much, but no one knew where he was. Hunter had noticed the report that Sensei Watanabe was also missing around the same time and had intended to speak with Cameron Watanabe on his own, but luckily he'd run into Lothor before then. What the half-  
witch half-vampire had told them had left Hunter reeling.

Kanoi Watanabe, warlock and ranger, had been systematically killing supporters of the peace efforts between witches and vampires for the past three years. Lothor had been tracking down those victimized by the ranger, offering to help in any way he could, and that's how he knew about Hunter and Blake, because Watanabe had visited their dojo shortly before Sensei Omino disappeared. Lothor was working hard to reinvigorate the peace efforts between vampires and witches, but realized the necessity of removing Watanabe from the equation.

Their path was clear from that day forth, and the murderer of their parents would be brought to justice.

Hunter took a calming breath, trying to clear his head. He needed to think rationally. Blake was depending on him. He just needed to stay focused on their plan.

He started jotting down notes on their previous night, as Lothor had requested when they started patrolling the city. Blake would need to tell him what happened with Tori and Dustin, because Hunter honestly couldn't recall anything about them. He had been so focused on Shane and...

A muffled noise escaped his throat. He didn't want to think about what had gone down between him and Shane, because he had actually thought about killing the other ranger. He'd come close. If Blake hadn't stopped him...

He tried reviewing the events of the evening objectively, but he paused when he thought about what Shane had said.

The other man had seemed so earnest when he called the gang "slavers." As a ranger, Hunter's first reaction was to investigate the claim, see if there was anything behind the accusation. But that would mean sniffing around the person who was footing their bills and, since Hunter was sure the claim was false, unnecessarily offending someone who had been very generous to them.

Maybe Blake was right and Watanabe did have them under some sort of spell or binding. It would explain why Hunter didn't feel very threatened by Dustin when they met on the track, or by Cam in Storm Chargers. Usually he'd go with his gut reaction on first meeting someone, but.

There were a lot of dead vampires out there. The shapeshifters had been laying low, but for some reason Blue Bay Harbor had seen an increase in vampire activity lately. Maybe because they thought Watanabe had "abandoned" his post? But that didn't make much sense because Cam seemed to have the situation under control. The nonhumans Hunter had spoken with since arriving– Well, those not in Lothor's employ– hadn't seemed overly concerned by the rogue rangers' presence. He hadn't had the opportunity to do much ground work before Lothor began setting up these "chance" meetings for them, but the impression he'd gotten from the locals was that the Watanabes were a respected family in the area. If anything, Hunter would have expected the vampire gangs to at least act more terrorized...

But no. Lothor was right. They were rangers who had betrayed their own code, killing the innocents they were sworn to protect. Hunter had seen it with his own eyes.

He sat back in his chair and yawned, scrubbing at his face. He'd only slept a few hours. Normally that would be enough, but today he just felt drained. He knew himself, though, and now that he was up, he wouldn't be going back to bed.

Staring at his moto jacket on the wall rack, he decided to see if their new buddy was down at the track. At least that way he could see how the rogue rangers had fared.

Quietly changing into his riding gear, he paused next to his jacket. There was the smell of perfume around it, too faint for human senses to detect. He looked suspiciously at Blake's denim jacket.

Looks like he'd have to have that talk with his bro when he got back...

* * *

TBC... 


	3. A reason to go on

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own 'em. If I did, it wouldn't have been a kids show. heh.

Part Three

* * *

The track was obviously soggy from the previous night when Hunter pulled up in his truck. There weren't that many people out due to the wonderfully overcast skies. Hunter kept his sunglasses on anyway.

Dustin's bright yellow gear was nowhere to be seen, not that he really expected him to be awake this early, but it meant that he'd probably have to go to Storm Chargers later in the day if he wanted to see how the rogue rangers were faring. Still, he wasn't going to let the morning go to waste when the track was practically deserted.

Gearing up, he walked his bike to the unofficial starting point and waited for the few riders on the track to clear. As far as he could tell, there were only humans present. Not surprising, but part of him had been expecting some non-humans given Blue Bay Harbor's rampant night world population. At least he wasn't the only rider with a reflective visor on his helmet.

Seeing a long enough opening between motorists, he brought his bike to life with a twist of the handles and kicked off. This was his version of meditation, just himself and his bike and the need to focus on the slippery course in front of him. The outside world could be kept at bay as long as he had gas in the tank.

His mom hadn't wanted them to get into motocross, worried that they'd either hurt themselves or reveal their powers in an accident, but he and Blake had pleaded until their dad took pity on them and joined the cause. It took a few months, but their mom had finally conceded and they'd gotten their bikes for Yuletide.

That first time at the track, picking up speed with the rumble of his bike traveling up his arms and legs... It was like the first time he summoned lightning to his fingertips, humming and sparking and beautiful. That exhilaration, knowing that he could do this and do it well. Even as his riding skills improved, that thrill never went away.

He rode until his inhuman arms ached and the mud was flaking off despite the feeling of rain in the air. It had only been a few hours, but he hadn't really shaken off his morning grogginess.

It wasn't until he was stowing his gear in the truck that he felt a prickling along the back of his neck, a sixth sense he'd learned to trust over the years. Someone was watching him. Under the pretense of securing his bike again, he scanned the trees that surrounded the track.

A flash of movement in the periphery of his vision, across the field in an old oak. Just a streak of movement, like a small animal breaking for cover when it thinks the predator is looking the other way. Definitely not a ninja. Not lamia, either. Shapeshifter, probably. He scented the wind instinctively, knowing the person was too far away, the exhaust fumes too strong. That was probably what kept him from noticing them earlier.

Watanabe didn't have any shapeshifters in his circle. None that Hunter knew about, anyway. Maybe it was just a curious local, checking out the new arrivals.

Telling himself it was nothing to get worked up about, he couldn't help glancing in his rearview mirror on the way back to the hotel.

Blake was still sleeping when Hunter quietly let himself into the suite. There were streaks of mud all over his clothes even after he'd taken off his gear, so he headed for the bathroom in his stocking feet.

He paused in the doorway of the bedroom, watching the steady rise and fall of Blake's chest. His breathing and heart rate sounded normal, but Hunter didn't like how pale he was, bite marks now just a shadow along his neck. Unease crawled along Hunter's skin. If he was tired, Blake was probably exhausted and he still went out after they returned last night.

Why? Where had he gone? They'd never kept things from each other before, especially after their parents died.

Maybe he was being paranoid. Normally riding would help Hunter clear his head, kind of like his own brand of meditation. Only today, he hadn't been able to focus. He couldn't get past the thought that nothing felt right anymore.

After he left the track, he'd stopped by one of the local lamia hang outs, chatted with some guys he'd met at the Bloody Mary when they'd first hit town, and the feeling of wrongness had just intensified. No one knew anything about the night Blake was attacked. They said they didn't even remember Blake being there, which made Hunter even more suspicious. Were they hiding something?

Or was Blake? A person didn't get that strong of a perfume scent on them just by standing near someone, not the light way Tori wore it.

Something wasn't right.

Sighing, he slipped into the bedroom and dug around for clean clothes in his duffel bag. Part of him hoped the noise would wake his brother up, give him an excuse to talk to Blake. The more cowardly part wanted to avoid any more confrontations with the person closest to him.

Blake didn't stir, so he closed the bathroom door with relief. He didn't like doubting himself, and times like these, he wished he still had a full time job so that he would have any sort of distraction. He knew he had a tendency to brood when left to his own devices.

A long shower helped calm him down. He turned the water hot enough to badly scald human skin and barely noticed. It felt wonderful on his aching muscles. The bathroom was filled with steam when he finally stepped out, so he decided to get dressed in the bedroom.

Blake was up and moving about when he opened the bathroom door. The shorter Bradley stumbled past him, mumbling something about bladder control, but seemed more awake when he shouted, "I can barely see in here, bro!"

Hunter smirked. "You still gotta clean up any mess you make."

"Jerk!"

"Ha!"

He kicked his duffel bag and dirty clothes over into his corner, then went to forage in the fridge. The sound of the shower starting implied Blake was up for the rest of the day. And it was only early afternoon...

There were leftovers from the night before sitting cold in the fridge. A full carton of sweet and sour chicken. It made his stomach churn just to think about actually eating it.

His hand gravitated to the glass bottles.

So what if he hadn't had solid food in a day or so? Lothor said it was normal for his appetite to drop once his power started increasing from the blood. It just meant his body was rechanneling his energies in directions it never had before.

And he really couldn't stand the thought of putting cooked meat in his mouth.

The shower faucet was twisted off with a grind of plastic and metal, then the shower door slid open. Hunter grabbed the opened bottle of blood and decided to forego a cup this time. He took a few straight gulps before replacing the cork. Blake wandered out of the bedroom just as Hunter closed the fridge door.

"Hey," Blake said with a crooked grin. "Man, am I starving. You go riding this morning?"

"Yeah." Hunter watched as his brother shuffled into the kitchenette, studying his movements for any irregularities. Blake seemed fine. But then, they themselves knew plenty of spells that could go undetected while killing the target. It seemed a little too subtle for the rangers, but Hunter wouldn't put it past Watanabe. "You slept pretty late. Didn't even hear me come in. You still feeling drained?"

Rolling his eyes, Blake grabbed the leftover chicken carton from the fridge. "For the thousandth time, I'm fine, bro."

Hunter didn't pick up any of the usual tells when Blake was lying, so he relaxed against the counter.

"You didn't get in until dawn. What'd you get up to last night?"

He asked casually enough, but there it was– The minute shift of muscles, the increased heartbeat. The frown that was quickly muffled by a shrug and a laugh.

"Just ran into some people. Hung out a while." Blake threw up his hands, not meeting Hunter's eyes. "No back alleys, I swear!"

"Some people, huh?" This time his tone wasn't casual at all.

Blake looked directly at him, calm resolve in his features. "Yeah. Some people. It's no big deal."

His hands were curling into fists, so he crossed his arms roughly with a scowl. "I'm sure if you told her what you were doing before your little _date_, it'd be a very big deal."

"What the hell?" Blake glared. "Why do you automatically assume I'm with Tori?"

"Because you were. Or have you started wearing CK One without me knowing?"

Growling in frustration, Blake looked away.

"I'm with you all the way, all right? We're family." He finally said quietly. "But I still think there's something going on with her and the other rangers. I'm not giving up on her."

The blood was pooling in Hunter's stomach, hot and painful and bright. Maybe it was the shock of hearing that Blake cared that much about some girl he just met, maybe it was all the confusion and doubt he'd been carrying around the past few days. But he couldn't just sit around the suite any more.

"Fine." He snarled and pushed past Blake, grabbing his moto jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"Out cruising. What do you think?"

He didn't wait to hear Blake's reply, slamming the door behind him. He took the stairs and didn't slow down until he reached the street, where he stopped suddenly. People walked past him and around him, and he didn't know where he was going or where this anger came from.

* * *

After wandering aimlessly for an hour, Hunter found himself on the same block as Watanabe's dojo. He hadn't intended to come back, but now that he was here, he told himself he wanted answers, that he needed to figure out what was going on. But he stopped outside the large front window, ignoring his own reflection and stared in.

If his gut tightened when he first saw Cam, the other man smiling down at a young student, he dismissed it as tension and anger. The past three years had made it easier to ignore useless emotions like attraction. He had two purposes in his life: protect Blake, and seek justice for his parents' deaths. He had failed at the first one, but it wouldn't happen again. As for the second, well.

The dojo door made no noise as he entered. Taking up a casual stance by the office, he surveyed the room and stretched his senses towards the back as well. There was the student talking to Cam, and the adult standing off to the side, likely a parent. Otherwise, the place was empty. That meant Watanabe was probably down in the basement, behind the thicker wards.

Cam had seen him come in, but kept speaking with the kid, occasionally addressing a remark to the parent. But it wasn't long before he clapped the student on the shoulder, offering an encouraging grin and exchanging farewells. He waited until the two left, watching them but obviously aware of every move Hunter made.

The blonde smirked. Cam finally turned to face him, eyebrow raised, and motioned with his head for Hunter to enter the office. A moment later, Cam joined him and closed the door behind them. He managed to skirt around Hunter to the other side of the desk without making it look like he was keeping as much distance as possible between the lamia and himself. It made Hunter's smirk deepen.

"Hunter," Cam said simply. The elder Bradley nodded in return, then got down to business.

"Have you been able to find anything out?"

"Yes, unfortunately." Cam's expression was grim. "And it doesn't look good."

Leaning back against the wall, Hunter crossed his arms. "It never does."

"True. But I think you'll find this to be especially bad news." Taking a breath, Cam seemed honestly regretful. "I asked around about what happened. Nothing too overt, but I do have contacts, and what I heard..." Cam gazed directly into his eyes. "Blake was last seen at the club talking to two witches, sisters named Marah and Kapri. He talked to them for maybe an hour, then left by himself. I don't know exactly what they were talking about, but if he was hexed before he left the club, then they're likely suspects."

A muscle twitched in Hunter's jaw. This was all the info Cam could find? Of course Blake would chat with Lothor's ditzy nieces. If anything, Blake was too nice and the girls were too busy drooling over him.

But why didn't Blake mention seeing them at the club? Lothor hadn't mentioned them, either, and the man kept close tabs on the girls so he had to have known. And why would Blake go into that alley anyway?

More questions, and at least he could ask Lothor for answers. But he couldn't let Cam know that.

"And Tori didn't see any evidence of who attacked him?" He finally asked, trying not to sound too hostile or suspicious. Cam probably picked up on it anyway, from the way his eyebrows raised.

"No. She was headed for the club when she saw him in the alley. Whoever did it had already left." His tone was neutral enough, but had a hint of defensiveness in it. Hunter didn't know him well enough to tell if he was lying.

"Thanks for the lead, then," he said with a sudden grin. "I appreciate the help."

He pushed away from the wall, intending to leave, but Cam's voice stopped him.

"Hunter, wait."

He stilled, looking at Cam expectantly.

"Look," Cam took off his glasses, expression earnest. "I know you're determined to go through with this whole revenge thing, but these aren't people you want to get involved with."

Hunter snorted. "I think I can handle a few witches."

"Well these witches aren't ordinary," Cam said, tone sharp. "They work for a very nasty character named Lothor."

"So?"

"So, he's a powerful half-vampire that won't hesitate to have you killed if you try to stir up any trouble around his operations." Hunter must have looked skeptical, because Cam came around the desk. "Trust me on this, I _know_ him, all right? And as much as you want to get back at whoever hurt Blake, I'm telling you now that if you draw more attention to yourselves, your brother may not be as lucky next time."

_That_ made Hunter bristle, canine teeth elongating. "Any one comes near Blake, or even threatens him, nobody's gonna find all the pieces left."

Cam glared. "Which I'm sure is quite effective against street thugs, but this guy's on an entirely different level. He has connections and money, he has his own powers– vampire _and_ warlock– and he has a dozen gangs of werewolves and vampires in his employ in a dozen different cities. And he doesn't just murder people, Hunter. He likes to play with them first."

"If he's so evil, how come I've never heard of him before?" Hunter demanded.

"Because he rarely does anything himself," Cam snapped back. "He sends his commands through other people, and he has a whole network of 'generals' that actively control his gangs. But he watches them closely, and keeps them on short leashes."

Hunter was quiet for a moment, letting it sink in. Either Cam was telling the truth, or he was trying to discourage Hunter from investigating Lothor and finding the real truth about the dojo and everything. If Cam _was_ telling the truth, then that meant Hunter and Blake were being played, and Lothor was the one ultimately responsible for the attack on Blake.

Cam was watching him closely, and Hunter met his gaze defiantly. He couldn't help noticing the stress lines around Cam's mouth, though, or the darkness around his eyes that had only deepened in the past days. When he had spoken with Cam the first time, he thought he looked tired. Now, he realized Cam was exhausted.

And he hated the part of his mind that noted it would just make their plan all the easier.

Breaking eye contact, Hunter stepped to the door and paused with his hand on the handle.

"Thanks for the warning," he said, glancing at Cam one more time. He mustered a cocky grin. "But don't worry. We can take care of ourselves."

Cam looked like he wanted to protest more, but decided that he had said enough. Nodding at Hunter, he gave a weak smirk.

"Try not to get yourself killed then."

"No prob."

So Hunter left, before the tightness in his chest could make him doubt himself even more. He had wanted answers and now he only had more questions. The overcast sky had turned into a light drizzle, and he tucked his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched.

It was obvious that Cam thought Lothor was evil. Maybe Blake was right, and they had all been brainwashed by Watanabe. The man was a powerful warlock... It would explain why Shane thought Lothor's men were slavers, and why Tori was apparently normal and rational in civilian gear.

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out with a glower. Normally Blake would let him brood after they had it out.

It was Lothor.

Hunter answered with a clipped, "Hello."

"Ah, Hunter. So glad I caught you." The southern twang was even thicker in Lothor's jovial voice. "Listen, I have some information you might find interesting."

"What kind of info?" Hunter asked, looking around for a someplace more secluded. The sidewalks had mostly cleared when the rain started, but you didn't talk business out in the open. He headed for a small park on his right.

"Well," Lothor lowered his voice as though sharing a confidence. "I just spoke with my nieces, and they mentioned seeing your brother with that female ranger– Tori, is it?– Again. So of course I asked them where else they'd seen them, and get this– The girls saw them together the night your brother was attacked. The little scamps hadn't thought to tell me before now because they were violating their curfew, but they were at the Bloody Mary then, and said Tori was– How did they put it?– 'Totally into' Blake. Quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

The sly tone made Hunter frown. "Quite."

"So of course I looked into the matter, just like I promised. I asked one of the bartenders if he remembered seeing Blake there, and he said he thought your brother spent almost an hour talking with a cute blonde girl before they left together."

"Funny, when I asked around, no one remembered anything," Hunter remarked casually, slowing down once he was in the trees of the park and trying not to be obvious about checking the place out.

"Well, you know how people can be when you get to a new town. It just takes them a while to warm up to new arrivals," Lothor said reassuringly. "Either that, or Watanabe has them too scared to talk. But I have good people working for me."

Thinking of how Zurgane had gone nuts on him, Hunter just offered a noncommittal grunt.

"Anyway," Lothor continued. "If what I've been told is true, and there's no reason to doubt it is, then it looks like the rogue rangers might have planned the whole thing."

"But why?" Hunter demanded. "If they knew who he was all this time, why not just kill him? It doesn't make sense to injure him and then heal him."

"To gain his trust, of course." Lothor sounded surprised. "If he thought of them as harmless, or if he happened to start to maybe _like_ one of them, he wouldn't be as careful around them. They could find out more about his plans. Our plans. After all, the attack prompted you to visit Watanabe's son, correct? They've probably been gathering intelligence on you and Blake, just as you have on them."

It was with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Hunter stopped walking. The feeling of being watched at the track...

But Cam _had_ been surprised to realize he was lamia. That couldn't have been faked. And the rangers had seemed genuinely confused by their presence at the warehouse. Maybe they were all just really good actors, or completely psychotic, or–

He had never told Lothor that he went to see Cam. He knew he had never mentioned it to the older man.

"I think we should step up ours plans, my boy," Lothor was saying in his ear. "Just to be on the safe side."

"Yeah, maybe." Hunter agreed, keeping his voice low. "What did you have in mind?"

"Why don't we move in tomorrow night? If they have data on you and Blake, maybe it would be best if some of my men did accompany you. For back-up, of course. I'd hate to have something happen to the two of you through my negligence."

Hunter concentrated on breathing steadily. "Yeah. As long as they don't interfere, that's fine."

"Excellent. I can't tell you how much it would reassure me. Until tomorrow night, then."

"Okay."

The line disconnected. Slowly, Hunter replaced his cellphone in his pocket and started walking, willing himself to relax.

He wasn't going to be attacked; he was just being watched. Followed. By their supposed ally.

Watanabe killed their parents, and now they were in the back pocket of a vampire-warlock that Hunter hadn't checked out as much as he should have before agreeing to go with him. It was a rookie mistake. Stupid, and he was endangering Blake's life when he wasn't even sure what information to trust. Who to trust.

And when in doubt, trust no one. Dodge any supposedly helpful adults and go with your gut. It was something he'd learned early in his life, and he shouldn't have forgotten it so easily.

* * *

Hunter stormed into the hotel room, tossing his jacket in the direction of the couch and ignoring Blake's yelp. Those building schematics were somewhere in his papers...

"Hey, that was my eye!" The younger Bradley jokingly protested, throwing the jacket at Hunter's desk.

"You'll survive," Hunter mumbled, busy quickly leafing through the folders in front of him.

Someone was lying to him. Plain and simple, and he didn't like it. He was tired of sitting around on his ass, being jerked around like a meat puppet. This wasn't what they came here to do.

So screw Lothor's plans. They'd get Watanabe on their own, like Hunter had intended from the beginning, and they'd get their justice. That was all he wanted.

"Woah, what's up?" Blake was standing on the other side of the desk. Hunter glanced up at him, pulling out the dojo's floor plan.

"Suit up. We move tonight." His voice was gravelly, furious. Not his own. Tensing, Blake stared at his mouth. Hunter didn't care if his fangs were showing at the moment.

"What?" Blake's attention snapped back to the papers between them. "I thought we were going to wait a few days?"

"Plans changed. Go get ready. And pack up."

Expression dropping to neutral, Blake shifted back on his heels. Hunter paused, looking at him.

"Well?" He demanded finally.

"You wanna clue me in here, or am I just tagging along for the ride?"

The hesitation before Hunter started speaking was more telling than his words. "We're getting Watanabe tonight and we're taking him to the Cave of Lost Spirits."

"What about Lothor–"

"We don't need him for this," Hunter growled. "We take Watanabe to the Cave ourselves, and we let the spirits judge him. Lothor can do whatever he wants to him after that, but we're through. As soon as the spirits make their decision, we split."

Blake held his tense position for three heartbeats before he abruptly headed towards the bedroom.

"Fine. I'll be right out."

Smoothing the wrinkled papers under his palms, Hunter nodded absently and traced the ward patterns with sharp fingernails. They knew how to get in. They could do this.

On their own.

* * *

And I have searched for the reason to go on  
I've tried and I've tried  
But it's taking me so long  
I might be better off  
Closing my eyes  
"All of This Past" Sarah Bettens


	4. Not by me

Disclaimer: Alas, these characters and the original works are not mine. I make no profit, I intend no disrespect. Property of Saban and whoever else. Disney? Concepts borrowed from LJ Smith's Nightworld and Dark Visions series, as well as White Wolf's Hunter: The Reckoning. This AU follows the events of the original PRNS episodes up through "Return of Thunder." Chances are, if you recognize it, it's not mine.

So there's a lot of action in this part, the conclusion, but don't worry-- The emotional fall out will be addressed in the next segment of this... behemoth-y AU series thing, "Careful, Boy, Careful."

* * *

Part Four

* * *

With a crackle of electric light, they transported out of the hotel bedroom. Lothor was probably watching them, probably even had tracking spells, and if he wanted to know what they were doing, well, Hunter would call it a rehearsal.

Appearing at the foot of a rocky mountain path, Hunter shrugged off his backpack. Next to him, Blake did the same. They hid their packs in a bush near the base of the mountain they'd be taking Watanabe up. His plan was to grab their gear on the way out and just keep going. He was going to regret leaving the bottles of blood behind in the fridge once they were gone, but he had finished the open one off before they left and it would tide him through the coming confrontations.

"Hunter…" Blake said quietly, and the blonde paused to show he was listening. "We should… We should probably go. They'll be patrolling now."

His hesitance didn't escape Hunter's notice, but Blake would do whatever his brother asked and they both knew it.

"All right. Let's do it." Tugging on his face mask, Hunter spared Blake one last glance before nodding. A crackle of black and crimson energy, the smell of ozone, and they were standing on a rooftop four blocks from the dojo. Streaking in, they stopped two buildings over from the business' roof. Earlier scouting indicated that Watanabe only had surveillance wards on the buildings closest to the dojo, but Hunter wanted to be sure. Neither the guinea pig Ninja Master nor Cam were to be underestimated.

Moving according to plan, Blake stepped to the edge of the building, took a fortifying breath, and streaked to the dojo's side door. When Hunter caught up to him, the first wards were down and Blake was standing in the darkened kitchen, a navy blue glow emanating from the basement door. Hunter frowned at the fierce concentration in Blake's eyes and his uneasiness returned. Maybe Watanabe had reinforced his wards? Energy shields were Blake's specialty, and Hunter had never seen one take him this long.

A green light ignited along the cracks of the door, flaring with a sharp tang of magick that set Hunter's teeth on edge.

Eyes narrowing further, Blake touched the amulet on his uniform and reached out with his other hand for the door. Hunter had to keep himself from stopping him, because now the entire place reeked of witch magick and it grated on his lamia-sensitive nerves like fingernails on chalkboard. But he refrained from saying anything, because there was no backing down now. Either way it turned out, they were going forward.

The door finally disintegrated with a sharp hiss and Hunter passed through the blackened doorway with inhuman speed before the spell had even dissipated. It wasn't ninja streaking. This was the predator's skill he had been born with and hadn't had to train for.

The basement was pitch black, perhaps in a futile attempt to conceal their targets. Hunter paused, scenting the air, and only had a split second to register the musky animal smell to his right mingling with the sharp herbal smell of Cam's shampoo before the room lit up with a white light far brighter than any human lamp could generate. It hurt.

An angry snarl was ripped from his throat as he launched himself at their last known position, senses overwhelmed by the pain in his blood-enhanced skin. When his hand came in contact with a warm body, he held on and let his momentum carry them through the computer consoles to the other side of the desk, into the concrete basement wall. He couldn't see the shower of sparks he caused, but felt the stinging bites along his skin, and it just enraged him further.

Flares of witch power behind him heralded Blake's arrival, and the bright lights were cut off as his brother focused his attack on Watanabe, leaving only the normal fluorescent lighting. Cam used the second of distraction the return of Hunter's vision caused him to twist away, fingers aimed at Hunter's throat in a sharp jab that could have crushed a normal human's windpipe. All it did was annoy Hunter, and as he captured the arm following through with an elbow to his face, he grappled the warlock's limbs behind his back. A strong back kick made his knee snap audibly with a sickening lurch, and he went down on one leg, dragging Cam with him.

The damaged knee immediately started healing, but he wouldn't be able to support his own weight with it yet, so he concentrated on keeping Cam immobile, rolling over until the shorter man was pinned underneath him. A gasping wheeze and the crack of cartilage indicated that he was maybe putting too much pressure on Cam's ribs, but that kick had hurt, dammit. Cam continued to struggle through Hunter's application of force, which Hunter found himself admiring against his will, but Cam wasn't pulling out any witch tricks and that kept Hunter on his guard. It was always preferable to fight a witch in close quarters, because they were more dangerous the more maneuverability they had, and one with ninja training was an even larger threat.

After a few minutes of continuous pressure, Cam's struggles grew weaker, and Hunter realized he had probably used most of his magickal energy defending the door. It was almost as if they weren't expecting someone of Blake's power to try to break in, and maybe they had planned more for Marah or Kapri than a ranger. Either way, Cam's exhaustion was obviously working against him and in Hunter's favor.

Keeping most of his attention on Cam, he looked for Blake and found him sealing Watanabe in a glowing white sphere, which must have been the spell Lothor taught him. Hauling Cam to his feet when he was sure the knee would hold up, Hunter dragged the recalcitrant warlock around the ruined computer equipment. Cam resumed struggling, but it wasn't half as intense as before. Hunter swung him around in front, restraining both arms with one hand around the other man's wrists, and loosely encircled Cam's neck with his free arm.

He debated knocking him out. They weren't here for him, and no matter what Watanabe had done, no son should have to watch his father be condemned. Cam spoke before he could come to a decision.

"Who are you?" The shorter man ground out, voice still defiant even though his tired body had betrayed him. Hunter took a breath to answer, but found himself inhaling a heady scent of herbs and sweat that distracted him on a visceral level. Blake, cradling the luminescent sphere, answered in his stead after a moment.

"We're just here to see justice be done."

"Justice?" Cam scoffed, "How is this justice?"

"Your father killed our parents," Hunter growled in his ear, anger growing as he realized he'd been diverted by his own attraction to an enemy. He tightened his grip on Cam, and the man let out an involuntary grunt.

"If I have killed," Watanabe answered calmly from the sphere, "it was to protect the innocent and preserve the harmony of our people."

"They were innocent!" Blake exclaimed, shaking the sphere. "They were rangers, too, and you slaughtered them!"

If Watanabe had more to say, his voice was cut off by the arrival of the other rangers. Hunter hadn't expected them to return so fast, but they had probably felt the wards go down if they were familiar with them. Shane was in the lead and the three spread out at the foot of the stairs, weapons at the ready.

"Let them go," Shane demanded, raising his katanas menacingly. Hunter scoffed at the macho display.

"All right." A surge of lamia strength and he threw Cam at the three of them, smirking as they stumbled and quickly tried to regroup. "We've got what we came for, anyway."

"Wait!" Cam yelled, doggedly standing up straighter. "At least tell us who you are."

A glance at Blake and the brothers removed their hoods. The murderous glare in Cam's eyes as he recognized them made Hunter smirk even wider and they locked gazes, Cam's hands clenching into fists.

"We will have justice," Hunter said with quiet conviction before teleporting. Blake appeared next to him a moment later at the base of the mountain.

"The Cave is on the other side," was all Hunter said before he started streaking up the rocky path through the trees. Following closely behind with Watanabe, Blake didn't say a word. There was something oppressive about the mountain the further into the woods they got, and after getting halfway up, Hunter paused in a clearing.

"You feel it to?" Blake whispered hoarsely.

"Yeah."

"This mountain is protected by the angry spirits of rangers who had lost their way in life, trying to atone in death," Watanabe intoned. "Very few ninjas can traverse it unscathed."

"We'll get through," Hunter snarled and started streaking again.

At the next point the path widened, a blur of white and grey flashed across his vision before he felt a force knock him down to the ground. Rolling to his feet, he stood back to back with Blake as they were surrounded by the corporeal manifestations of the mountain guardians. Fighting on the defensive, they managed to deflect the first volley of attacks aimed at them, but the second wave was interrupted by three more ninja streaks appearing in a swirl of fallen leaves. The rogue rangers joined the fray, also targeting Blake in an attempt to reclaim Watanabe, but the younger Bradley threw the sphere to his brother like a football. Catching it, Hunter wasted no time streaking further up the mountain side.

The path opened onto a rocky plateau, but Hunter could hear the roar of the surf on the other side of the mountain and sped up. Blake streaked in behind him, followed quickly by Shane. Hunter felt the surge of wind gusting at him and dodged to the left, a furrow carved in the ground where he had been running.

"Your rangers are trying to kill you, too," he muttered to the sphere under his breath as he avoided another blow.

"Despite what you believe, Hunter, I did not kill your parents. I knew the Bradleys and held them in the highest respect."

"Then tell them that when you see them." Hunter stopped running long enough to direct a blast of energy at Shane that threw the other man off his feet.

"Hurting one who has done nothing to you makes you no better than the one who inflicted this pain on you in the first place," Watanabe tried to reason with him, but Hunter wanted to hear nothing more of the man's lies.

"You murdered our parents. I was there. You deserve everything you're about to get."

With that, he streaked faster, blood churning in his stomach as he pushed his body to its limits. Several explosions behind him felt like Blake's power, dominated by the crackle of burnt ozone, and Hunter found himself on the other side of the mountain, at a rocky beach where the cavern entrance loomed in the darkness, a void in the black rock face.

Gasping for breath, Blake caught up. He asked, "Is that it?"

Hunter merely nodded and kept going forward. When they passed the Cave's entrance, a shiver ran over his skin like a caress and he could have sworn something moaned in the distance. Blake stepped in closed to him and relied on Hunter's enhanced eyesight to find the way.

A light was flickering further down the cave, and Hunter found himself drawn to it. The magick of the place was pressing in on him, enveloping him with a steady pressure that gave him an idea of how Cam felt earlier. It almost felt like they were being herded towards the cavern in front of them.

"That's it," Blake whispered when they entered the lit pocket of space. "The Gem of Souls."

A crystal sat at the tip of a stalagmite, resting in a bed of glistening limestone. Hunter walked slowly up to it and hesitated, then plucked the green gem from its stand.

"So we place him here," he muttered, "and call on the spirits to judge him…"

"Right." Blake appeared at his side, gently positioning the white sphere in the gem's place. The luminescence of it increased, almost brighter than the glow of the gem itself.

"Leave him alone!" Tori cried out behind them, voice fierce. Turning, the brothers found themselves facing three very determined rangers. The ninjas surged forward, bereft now of weapons after battling the spirits, and Hunter and Blake responded in kind.

Dustin had just landed a heavy punch to his solar plexis when Hunter sensed another presence behind them. Cam was at the natural room's entrance, haggard but determined, and soon the Bradleys were outnumbered two to one. Focusing on his attacks on Hunter, Cam was obviously out for blood and the elder Bradley was staggered under his flurry of kicks. Circling behind him, Dustin connected with his left just as Cam slammed into the right, and Hunter went down with a growl. The two rangers didn't press their advantage, though, and Hunter started to climb suspiciously to his feet when the gem started glowing, gathering heat where he had tucked it into his uniform. With a hiss, he doubled over and frantically pulled it away from his skin, holding it with the fabric of his sleeve. Blake, Tori and Shane paused in their fighting as well, and the cavern was filled with a blindingly bright light.

"Hunter. Blake."

Voices he hadn't heard in three years, but knew by heart. Whipping his head around, Hunter stared at the apparitions standing behind the sphere.

"We know why you are here, boys," their father said kindly. "And we appreciate your loyalty, but Kanoi is not the one who murdered us."

Shock left Hunter frozen where he stood.

"No," a grating Southern voice announced from the cavern entrance. "I am."

Lothor posed haughtily, hands on his hips, smugly surveying the scene in front of him. "I drained them of their powers, and now, brother, I'll be taking yours, if you'd be so kind as to sit still and die for once."

Time slowed for Hunter. Lothor was raising his arm, Blake was still next to the pedestal where Watanabe was trapped, and his parents gazed on with sad eyes at the man who killed them. Without really thinking, Hunter felt the gem flare in his hands, felt its power, and rolled in front of the pedestal, holding the gem out in front of him like a talisman. Lothor's spell hit it dead on and the impact reverberated up Hunter's arms as the shot was turned back on the halfbreed, launching him back into the darkness of the cave's depths.

Before anyone could really react, the gem flared again, a brilliant burst of energy that shot out over the gathered rangers and knocked them to their knees. Gasping, Hunter watched the gem crack into four neat shards, each the size of his thumb. Then the energy faded.

"You have a long road to travel," their mother said softly, the first to speak. "All of you do. Please look after each other, Blake. Hunter. And continue to do what you feel is right."

They started to become even paler, and Hunter heard himself call out, "Wait. Don't leave us again."

"We're always with you," she said with a smile.

"Always," their father echoed. "You will never be alone."

They dissipated, and Hunter couldn't do more than glance at Blake's heartbroken expression, knowing it was probably mirrored on his own face. Instead, Hunter looked to the other rangers, who seemed stunned and confused by the events of the night. Cam was flat out on his back.

Hunter pulled himself to his feet, then helped Blake stand. The younger Bradley held out his hand and dispersed the spell around Watanabe. As one, the boys bowed stiffly from the waist.

"We owe you an apology, Sensei," Blake murmured. "Please accept our most humble regrets."

"You were deceived," Watanabe said gently. "It is difficult to know whom you should trust, especially when you are grieving. You have honored your parents' memory, and I do not begrudge you that."

"Thank you, Sensei," they both said.

The other rangers were rising to their feet now, and Hunter offered his hand to Cam while Blake helped Tori up. With a disdainful glare, Cam ignored the peace offering and rose with the assistance of a nearby stalagmite.

"We should leave this place. It is not for the living," Watanabe declared as he hopped down from the stand, almost the size the gem was.

Looking down at his left hand, Hunter realized he still had the gem shards gripped tightly in his palm. Tucking them away in his uniform, he followed as the tired group filed out again.

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

Retrieving their back packs in the dawning morning light, Hunter couldn't help pausing to stare up at the mountain. Were their parents' souls still there, wandering together? At least they had each other. That was reassuring to know.

Just like Blake's grumblings about missing breakfast were reassuring as well. His little bro had always recovered quickly from emotional stress.

"We'll stop in the next town," Hunter frowned at him. "You'll survive."

"But Tori was going to make me omelets!" Blake sighed. "We should have said goodbye, man."

"I'm sure they're glad to see us gone," Hunter muttered, thinking of the cold shoulder Cam had given him when they had returned with the rangers to the dojo and helped clean up the mess. Cam had stayed behind to destroy the hard drives when the others went after the Bradleys and Sensei, which was good thinking on his part because Lothor had trashed the place before going to the Cave. Needless to say, the young Watanabe was not pleased with them, especially Hunter in particular.

Rather than think on that morass of guilt and regret, Hunter started walking towards the coast line. They usually felt the most comfortable near the ocean, for some reason. Maybe because it was the closest they could get to a constant storm on the ground. Blake gave another sigh and trudged alongside him.

"We could stay, you know," Blake tried again. They'd had a similar conversation earlier. "We should help clean up the mess we made."

"I think they'd prefer it if we weren't around for a while," Hunter bit out. Again. It silenced Blake for a moment, but the reprieve was short.

"So how long do you think we'll be gone?" He asked casually, looking out over the trees of the coastline.

Stopping short, Hunter put his hands on his hips. "Why, we got a reason to come back?"

Blake gave him a look. "We both do."

Hunter shut up and kept walking.

* * *

End "All of This Past." To be continued in "Careful, Boy, Careful." 


End file.
